The Service Club
by tinylittlerobots
Summary: After being suspended from school for two weeks, Cagalli returns to a shocking revelation: If she doesn't complete her community hours by the end of the year, she won't be able to graduate. Unliked by most, and a delinquent by certain people's standards, she is forced to join 'The Service Club', the only problem is, there's only one other member...
1. rotten adolescence

**A/N:** I needed to write something a bit lighter, well actually a LOT lighter than Paparazzi and of course... a lot different in pacing, style, etc. So here it is!

I've had the idea around for a while and this chapter was sitting around laptop (with me debating if I should extend this chapter- turns out I didn't) and this idea has been inspired by many things. But most importantly, as most stories with teenagers, it's about coming of age. :)

This story encompasses the genres: romance, friendship, drama, and humour

Rated T for language, some sexual innuendos and hints of dark humour.

* * *

 **The Service Club**

 _ **one:**_ rotten adolescence

 _Two Weeks Ago_

"You are aware of the consequences, right, Cagalli?" Mr. La Flaga was sitting in his office desk, hands interlocked beneath his chin, while his face was as stoic as it could ever be.

Cagalli snorted. She grabbed a candy from the jar placed in the corner of his desk. Unwrapping it gingerly, she scoffed, "Expulsion?" Then she popped the sucker in her mouth, crumpling the wrapper.

He chuckled in response, breaking the seriousness in his facial expression. "It would take a lot more than punching a teacher in the face to get expelled."

She crossed her arms, sucking on the candy. "How disappointing."

Mr. La Flaga shrugged, with a hint of a smile on his lips. "What's disappointing is your behaviour towards this situation and the fact that _I_ have to deal with it. But Principal Kisaka is dealing with another student at the moment."

Sighing, she stood up from her seat and slung her backpack over her shoulder. "As a guidance counselor, _sir,_ shouldn't you be guiding your students in the right direction? Maybe you should get Kisaka – "

"It's Principal Kisaka."

Cagalli rolled her eyes, ignoring him, she continued, " –Kisaka to expel me. I've caused enough harm, and the students at this godforsaken school will be at risk if I continue to attend."

He stuck out his hand and formed a peace sign with his fingers to her.

Perplexed, her brows scrunched.

"Two weeks," he stated assuredly.

"That's it?!"

"Yup," he said, his voice as breezy as his looks. Aloud, he read the forms on his desk, " _For Ms. Athha, two weeks of suspension from school._ "

Her jaw dropped, right before a barrage of words flew out her mouth, "What do you mean _two weeks_? I'm a menace to the school and society! I need more than just two weeks! I need the whole year off! What if I become one of those kids who ends up shooting up the entire school?"

"Cagalli, that's not funny."

She slammed a fist onto his desk, fluttering the papers on his desk. Looking directly in his eyes, she said, "Sir, I am detrimental to everyone's mental health, you _do not_ want to be blamed for only giving me two weeks of vacation!"

"Cagalli, this is a suspension, not a vacation!"

"Yes, and this is a serious issue, a minor like me who almost killed a teacher should be under house arrest for an entire year!" She paused and lowered her voice to a whisper. "If I continue to attend school, I might end up doing more than punching a teacher."

Mr. La Flaga rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. "Out of all the delinquent students I had to deal with, you aren't even close to being as troublesome as the ones in the past. Quit the 'bad reputation' act, and sign these forms before I call Principal Kisaka and request a one week suspension for you."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

He grabbed his office phone and began dial the number to the Principal's office. "How should I request your one week suspension?"

Cagalli glared at him. "You don't."

Holding the phone, Mr. La Flaga altered his voice to sound like one of those kiss ass students. "Principal Kisaka, Cagalli enjoys school oh so very much, so I would like to shorten the length of her suspension."

Her eyes narrowed as Mr. La Flaga smirked at her.

"Fine! I'll accept two weeks!" she spat.

"Thank you, Cagalli." He hung up.

A sarcastic smile broke out on her mouth. "Whatever."

Giving up her conquest for a year off at school, she reluctantly signed the papers, then headed to the door.

 _This fucking sucks._

As she was about to walk out, Mr. La Flaga interrupted her departure into limited freedom.

"Cagalli?"

"Yes, Mr. La Flaga?" she answered through gritted teeth.

"When you come back, things will hopefully be a whole lot different for you."

Cagalli stopped to take in his words, not knowing what the hell they meant. If that was a threat, it was a shitty one.

She let out a simple, "Cool," right before exiting his office.

* * *

 _Present Day_

 _"Today's the day where the menace of society returns back to school. Cagalli Athha, don't think of skipping today, or coming late to any of your classes, or else you'll give me a headache. If something comes up, like an unexpected flu or sudden menstruation feel free to call the school, the line will be redirected to me and I will convince you to come to school otherwise. Also, on a side note, Mr. Roma Seiran has taken a leave of absence, so your new English teacher is Ms. Ramius."_

She sighed a breath of relief, but then wondered, _how the hell did Mr. La Flaga get my cellphone number?! Isn't that illegal?!_

Her voicemail returned back to the automated operator's voice. _"To erase this message, press nine, to save it, press seven, for more options press star."_

"I'm going to be saving this as evidence if I ever want to charge La Flaga for stalking a minor," she mumbled, sitting up in bed. Her thumb tapped 'seven' on her screen. Then she hung up on her voicemail machine.

Her head fell back to her pillow. She groaned into it, "I don't wanna get out ever!"

* * *

With her backpack chucked over her shoulder and a green tea latte in her right hand, she begrudgingly walked the hallways of her school, making her way to her first period class.

When she reached a particular hallway, Cagalli's eyebrows furrowed. Students were sitting around their lockers, with their legs outstretched, animatedly talking to their friends about things that she deemed pointless.

What she would have liked to do was stomp on their poor shins, just to see their winces of pain. That would be their consequence for being inconsiderate of people walking by, but she decided against this. She couldn't just blatantly cause ruckus on her first day back from suspension – especially if there was evidence involved… like bruises.

So she decided against her preconceived visions of menace and continued to drag her feet across the floor with her eyes narrow and her lips in a less than adorable pout. That had to be a good signal for them to get out of her way, she thought.

Nope.

She had to step over a couple of legs that were just like entrapping tentacles. The annoying students continued to ignore her disgruntled signals as if she didn't exist.

It didn't take long, however, for some students to move their legs out of the way.

 _Finally,_ she had thought with a tiny sneer on her face.

But the students movements weren't from the hostility Cagalli was emitting, it was from a certain student behind her.

From afar, opposite to Cagalli, this student sped walk across the hallway with her _Michael Kors_ handbag banging against her hip. She was whishing pass bodies of students as the ones who were sitting down hurriedly scooted away their legs for her approach. Her swift speed walking resembled the slickness of an ice skater. But what this person lacked from an ice skater was a clear attention to her surroundings.

Cagalli had been glancing down, paying careful attention to the legs on the ground, trying to avoid the pitfall of her drink spraying on her face and her butt landing hard on the floor.

But soon enough:

A wild smack to her hand, a huge splash of her precious green tea latte, the drop of two inanimate objects and the sputtering of "Are you a fucking idiot?!" came to be.

There was an uninvited burning sensation spreading across Cagalli's right leg and…god forbid… her crotch. She cringed. When she glanced down, her cheeks began to burn.

She looked like she pissed the living crap out of herself.

Ba bang. Ba bang. Ba bang.

"Oh my god! Are there any cracks?"

"Cracks? Of course there aren't any cracks!" Then Cagalli realized that the girl was talking to herself, inspecting her cellphone's screen with worrisome eyes.

"This is like the fifth time I dropped this phone and I just bought it yesterday," she whined, unaware of Cagalli's dilemma.

She yanked the phone out of the girl's hand and shot daggers at her. "You should watch where you're going! Look what you've done!" She pointed to her crotch. "You nearly gave me third degree burns!"

The girl spared a brief glance at the wet spot on Cagalli's crotch then immediately looked at the phone that was still in Cagalli's hands. There was a protective glint in her eyes.

"Sorry," she airily said, with absolutely no sincerity intact. Her stare fixated on her precious device. "Can you give me back my phone? Please?"

Well, Cagalli's pissing dilemma was quickly dismissed out of that girl's brain. Who would have known that a day of embarrassment for Cagalli would _never_ equate the loss of a stupid phone?

Suddenly, Cagalli felt the hotness of the liquid stinging the skin beneath her pants as if to painfully reminder her that _I'm still here to ruin your day_.

She clenched her fists, her right hand squeezing the cellular device. Opening her mouth, she bellowed, "You actually _are_ an idiot! You care more about this inanimate object than apologizing for your stupidity!"

The girl stepped away, taken aback by Cagalli's boiling anger. Seemingly, her shocked state disappeared and her eyes evolved into slits. Before speaking, she took a deep breath, then held out her index finger to Cagalli's face.

"First of all, you're not allowed to bring any hot drinks to class."

Her middle finger rose.

"Second of all, your pants _will_ dry."

Then her ring finger jutted up. "And third of all, maybe _you_ need to watch where you're going!"

"…Unlike you, I wasn't looking at a fucking screen while I was walking!"

The girl growled and stuffed her hand into her bag. She brought out an orange wallet that was embezzled with a golden _Kate Spade_ label on the front. "Thirty dollars, 'cause I don't have time to deal with your BS." She pulled out a twenty and a ten-dollar bill.

"I'm not a damn charity case."

"Take it or leave it. Buy yourself some new jeans –there are way too many rips in yours. Oh, and new panties too. If not, you could yolo your ass through the day and enjoy being itchy down there." She waved her bills. "Now give me back my phone, I have notifications to check."

Cagalli scowled. _Yes, because seeing the amount of 'likes' you get on your Instagram photo is so much more important than saying sorry._

"Finder's keepers, loser's weepers!" a masculine voice cried out, laughing pretentiously like a hyena as he ran past the girl.

The girl's overly glossy hair whipped backwards as she looked behind her and then in front during that split second. "Tolle!" she screamed, her high voice reaching octaves that could have pierced the eardrums of angels. "Give me back my money, you douchebag!"

Before Cagalli could even register what was going on, the phone was snatched fluidly out of her hand.

"My phone!"

"Come and get it, Flay!" the boy named Tolle shouted back, as he dashed through students, covering his mouth to muffle his laughter. He disappeared into the crowd, just as fast as he came.

The girl named Flay had already abandoned her trivial argument with Cagalli in pursuit of her device and her cash. From what Cagalli had seen, Flay ran fast, not caring if she shoved some clumsy people out of their balance.

Cagalli muttered, "Dumb bitch."

She now stood in the middle of the hallway, all by herself, while the other students were in clusters.

Glancing around, she caught the eyes of students staring at her, the expressions in them ranged from disgusted, afraid or annoyed. When hers met some of their gazes, their eyes abruptly averted and some even started talking to the person next to them.

All in all, they started to ignore Cagalli's presence.

She was unaware of _all_ the reasons as to why they would do that. Some of them didn't even know her.

But it's not like she gave a damn anyways.

Taking off her flannel button up, she wrapped it around her waist, covering her crotch with its oversized sleeves.

From the corner of her vision, she saw a group of girls whispering to one another. She lowered her gaze to the floor, put on her headphones, and increased the volume to the max.

Eying her empty cup on the floor, she crushed it beneath her foot, right before kicking it hard. Some noticed and exchanged looks of irritation. Cagalli just walked on, flustered with rage and a hint of embarrassment.

* * *

Stopping outside of her English classroom (which was also her homeroom class), she put her headphones around her neck. The students who had been chatting amiably to one another fell silent when Cagalli appeared through the door.

She stopped in her tracks, shooting unimpressed glances at her classmates. "No, no, continue your conversations." Her voice resonated loudly. "I mean absolutely no harm! Sure, I might have been involved in some blood shed in this classroom, but trust me. My triumph is over, I still have to grace you guys with my presence, unfortunately."

The few classmates in the room stared at her blankly before retreating back to their utterances of non-sense.

Cagalli put on her headphones without turning her music back on. Walking past the desks towards the seat at the back beside the window, she caught fragments of her name being said amongst some of the male students.

"I can't believe she's back. I swear she's probably going to rip someone's balls off and feed them to the pigeons before graduation."

"It better not be my balls!"

"Real talk, I miss Mr. Roma Seiran, he did nothing wrong. Cagalli goes way too far sometimes."

"Don't say her name so loud! She might hear you and decide to cut your dick off."

"Oh shut up, she can't even hear us."

She smirked to herself. Passing their desks, she smugly said, "Real talk, that sounds like a good idea, considering your phallus is your entire pride."

The boy blushed hard at her words, the others sitting near him froze up, twiddling their thumbs, avoiding eye contact with Cagalli.

"Big words for a girl whose daddy didn't potty train her." That came from the guy who had his feet launched up on his desk. He had his arms tucked behind his dyed blond head, while his butt was firmly placed on his tilting chair.

She clicked her tongue as heat rose up to her cheeks. Her hands pulled her hanging sleeves closer to her crotch to cover the dampness. "This isn't piss, Dearka," she lamely retorted. "It's tea, but you wouldn't know what that is, since all you ever drink is beer."

"You should try it. Better to be a little loose sometimes than to be as _tight_ as you."

The guys stifled their laughter while Dearka had the audacity to wink at her.

Cagalli's face burned even more, all she could say was, "Shut your mouth before I kill you."

Dearka obnoxiously laughed, which was a clear signal for the other guys to let out their snickering.

She glared at each one of them, yet they seemed unfazed by it because they were staring straight at her crotch. The discomfort she received from their stares was more uncomfortable than the clammy feeling of her pants.

As she walked past them to her favourite spot in the classroom, Dearka called out, "You can't sit there! We have seating arrangements now, thanks to you!"

"You're welcome asshole," she fired back, not looking at his stupid face. She sat down in her chair. "And I don't give a shit if we have seating arrangements!"

 _It's not like I have anyone I'd like to sit beside._

She crossed her arms on her desk, then sunk her head into it. Closing her eyes, she hoped she would get in a couple minutes of sleep before Ms. Ramius and the rest of her classmates strolled in.

Unlucky for her, snippets of conversations slipped into her half-assed napping attempt.

"Have you seen the video? It's hilarious! I nearly pissed myself when I watched it."

"Yeah! I heard the guy in it is a year below us."

"I've never laughed so hard in my life! That shits going viral."

"Do you know who uploaded the video?"

"Who cares? I wish I was there to witness it!"

The YouTube video of a boy with a bowl haircut quickly appeared in her mind. In his own English class, this poor kid had sung a self-written Shakespearean power ballad that sounded exactly like the croaking of a dying slug.

He had messed up nearly four times.

Cagalli had to admit that she laughed her ass off when she first watched it. But during her third time, something unsettling hid itself in the pit of her stomach.

 _Poor kid, I wonder how he's going to react now that he's the butt of all jokes._ She frowned to herself. _Pfft… it's his own fault for letting himself do that, he should have been aware that teenagers at this school are devils in the making._

"Um… excuse me, Cagalli," a timid voice stole her from her thoughts.

When she gazed up, her eyes met with the guy they called…

Jesus Yamato.

Perfect lilac eyes with hair that was smooth to the touch, and a smile that could make flowers grow in the driest of deserts. He could have had the ability to walk on water and turn water into wine, but instead, he was blessed with the humility that every self-proclaimed 'nice guy' thought they had.

If only the windows beside her were open so that the wind can push his hair to the side and if the clouds had departed from the sun, its beam could have shone down on his miraculous face.

That would have been perfect. Good thing that didn't happen.

"What Kira?" she rudely answered, keeping her face mean.

He continued to smile at her. He scratched the back of his head. "Welcome back."

Slightly stunned, her expression of meanness faltered. "Um…thanks? Is there something you want?"

Not once had she remembered a single conversation with Jesus Yamato. When was the last time she even talked to this guy? It had to be during ninth grade when she actually cared to make friends.

"We've gotten new seating arrangements," he said, his neck was turning into a bright shade of red. "We're sitting alphabetically by last name, so Ms. Ramius assigned me here. But if you want, I could ask her if we could trade spots for the rest of the semester. I really don't mind sitting all the way in the front, my eye sight isn't very good so…"

Cagalli looked over at the empty seat that was at the very front of the class, close to the door. She studied it for a moment, then returned her gaze to Kira. "It's okay, I'll just take my assigned seat."

"Really?! Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she answered nonchalantly. Grabbing her backpack from the floor, she stood up from her seat. "Besides, it's closer to the door, so when the bell rings I can just bolt out the class."

Kira chuckled with no hesitation. "You're funny."

Automatically her first smile of the day developed on her lips. When she realized the earliness of her smile, she immediately bit her bottom lip. Trying to sound snide, she said, "Not really, if I could, I would have skipped class for the rest of the semester."

"Then…you would have failed English and have to be held back for a year."

"God forbid. I'm trying to get out of this shit hole as fast as I can."

"That's why you should stay in school. If…if you need help or anything…I…uh can give you my number or something." He fumbled with the straps of his backpack."…We covered an entire unit of poetry while you were gone, so I could… h-help you with the analytical essay." He broke eye contact with her.

 _Is this guy afraid of me?_

She visibly saw his hands shaking on his backpack straps.

"Thanks but no thanks," she quickly replied. "I can do fine by myself."

"A-are you sure? I really don't mind."

She waved her hand as if to shoo the poor boy. "Kira, I've been doing fine on my own since high school started. So you should send your saintly hands to someone who relies on the help of others."

"Oh, okay…" he awkwardly said, with a strained smile on his face.

As she walked away into the direction of her assigned seat, her head was occupied with a single question. _Why would Jesus Yamato want to help me?... Maybe he wants to uphold his reputation or something. But I don't want him helping me because he has to!…. he has to actually_ want _to._

When she sat on the chair, dumping her bag beside her, she inwardly groaned to herself. "Whatever."

Ms. Ramius then entered the room in haste. Her hair was in the messiest bun and a chewed up pen held it in place. She dropped her satchel on her desk and smiled at the now quiet classroom.

"Good morning. I'm just going to settle down for a bit, so after announcements, we're going to begin reading Macbeth aloud."

The chatter didn't cease after that.

Cagalli took out a binder and a pencil. She began to scribble onto the paper.

Minutes later, a shadow hovered over her sheet of doodles.

It was Ms. Ramius's.

"Nice to see you back, Cagalli. How was your suspension?"

Keeping her head low as she scribbled crossbones and flowers, she replied, "Perfectly fine. I was able to hibernate for two weeks without worrying about teachers nagging me or hearing the idiocy of my fellow peers."

Ms. Ramius paused, seemingly shocked at Cagalli's choice of words. She coughed. "Sounds good. I have something for you."

That had piqued Cagalli's curiosity.

A small, yellow folded up sheet of paper had fallen onto her desk.

She stared at the yellow sheet in distaste.

It was a guidance counselor appointment.

"Try not to skip it."

"Sure thing…"

* * *

A day of school went by with minimal pain to Cagalli's tolerance levels. Besides an annoying morning, she was able to go through her classes without the temptation of cussing out any of her peers… or teachers for that matter.

During her lunch break, she drove home and changed out of her cotton panties and jeans, in exchange for lace panties and black pants. Why lace panties? Because she felt like it.

She stayed in the comfort of her own house for the entire lunch hour, eating the leftover spaghetti she made the night before. Of course, she drove back and returned to her third period class, then moved onto her last period class.

When the last bell rang, she did not end up bolting straight to her car. Instead, she forced herself to go inside the Guidance Councilor's offices.

On Mr. La Flaga's office door, his name was embedded along with the letters _A – F_ below his name. This meant that he had the pleasure of being the councilor to all the students in the school whose last names began with the letters A through F.

Since Cagalli's last name started with an A, she was one of his students, obviously.

Mr. La Flaga had been her guidance councilor for two years, but this was the first year where she had various interactions with him. It didn't seem like her interactions were going to end anytime soon.

She leaned beside the doorframe, crossing her arms. Checking the clock on top of the wall, it read: _2:57 pm._ Cagalli glowered. Mr. La Flaga was twelve minutes late.

She saw him walk into the offices with a sloped grin.

"Ah, you're early," he greeted.

"And you're not punctual."

Mr. La Flaga shrugged. "I didn't expect you to come, so I took my time talking to one of my former students."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, but I could have been home by now."

"How was your first day back anyways?"

"Shouldn't we be going inside your office right now?"

He glanced at his office door then back to her. "So, how was your first day back?" he asked again with an overload of enthusiasm.

A fake smile spread on her face, making her look like a devious child.

"It was just wonderful. Some girl named Flay spilt my drink all over my crotch, so for my first two periods I had endured being moist down there. Then Jesus descended down on me and proclaimed that he can help me with my English homework. But I refused! I am not a sinner! Then during lunchtime I went back to my safe haven and changed. Then came back to my third then fourth period class where virtually no one spoke to me. Serves them right, I could have been unhinged from their attempts to speak to a subhuman specie such as myself."

Mr. La Flaga had a dumbfound look on his face.

She continued, smile still large. "Surely, I could go more into detail about how half pitiful my day was but if you don't care La Flaga, then just say so. 'Honesty is the best policy'."

He frowned. "I don't – "

"Hah! I knew it! Guidance counselors don't actually care about their students!"

"I didn't say that! Look, whether you like it or not I care about you. That is why today, we will be discussing your…err… community hours."

The smile quickly vanished. "Community hours? What do you mean…?"

"Well…." Avoiding her eyes, he took a huge gulp of air, right before he continued his explanation. "…by the end of a high school, normally, students should have 80 hours of community service completed in order to graduate. But…uh, counting the number of times you've skipped class from your sophomore year to your senior year, your past altercations with certain students, and your recent suspension, your amount has increased to…270 hours."

Her blood ran cold. A squeak slipped out between her closed lips.

"You won't be able to graduate if you can't fulfill those hours by the end of the year," he added that in like a final slam.

Cagalli's jaw dropped.

Mr. La Flaga braced himself for her incoming barrage of rage.

But instead, she remained still, the expression in her face was as frozen as the stiffness in her body. The panic made her brows finally look like they weren't scrunching in irritation.

 _Volunteer opportunities?_

She remembered seeing pamphlets of places where she could volunteer. On a pamphlet advertising a senior's home, there was an overly enthusiastic teenager looking like they were in mid-laughter beside their cane-wielding geezer counterpart. Cagalli imagined herself as the teenager beside that geezer, yet she could already see it… the cane bonking against the back of her head! And she wouldn't be able to do anything because she wasn't the one that was going to die soon!

No!

Then there was that other pamphlet with the brats smiling way too largely at the camera. 'Join 'Afterschool Fun' and have fun with primary children!.' Umm, no. The last experience Cagalli had with kids left her with a piercing sound in her ears and a headache that lasted for days. And maybe she would be the one to throw a temper tantrum.

Nope.

What other options were there? Volunteering was unpaid labour! Would it even be called volunteering if you were _forcing_ yourself to do these things you didn't want to do?

Maybe she could join a food shelter and stack cans all day, which would require no effort and hopefully no interaction with other volunteers!

All that panicked thinking definitely made her look like she had no capacity of being the tough girl she wanted to be.

The corner of Mr. La Flaga's mouth quivered as it slowly evolved from a straight line into a curved one. He looked as though he were to trying his best to suppress a laugh.

"Help me! You're my guidance counselor!"

"H-hold on." He grabbed his side bag and covered his face with it.

Cagalli saw his broad shoulders shaking.

After what seemed like a minute, he put the bag down. He was straight faced for a moment, then he smiled widely at her, revealing his coffee stained teeth.

"I know the perfect place for you," he exclaimed perkily.

The panic inside of her disappeared, only to be replaced by an annoying feeling of dread.

"…Yay," was all she could say.

* * *

 **A/N:** So, there you have it! An introduction to two of our mains, and an introduction to many characters along the way! I hope you liked my interpretation of the characters. :D thanks for reading.


	2. skeletor loser & the indie kid

**A/N:** Finally finished this chapter! I'm really happy with the reception I received from the last chapter. I loved how Kira Yamato was a highlight for you guys. Your reviews made me smile.

* * *

 **The Service Club**

 _ **two:**_ skeletor loser & the indie kid

Cagalli grasped onto the railing of the third flight of stairs. A faint sheen of perspiration coated her forehead, her chest rose up and down. She gasped for air before moaning out, "Where…the… hell are we…. going… La Flaga?"

Mr. La Flaga was not breathing heavily like his counselee counterpart. Instead, he had taken an appearance of ease. He paused from his laidback stride and smiled at Cagalli. "A place where you could fulfill your community hours. You should know that already." He continued to walk up, without glancing back at her.

She leaned on the railing. Attempting to catch her breath, she gave a frustrated groan. "That doesn't explain jack shit!"

He sighed while opening the wide doors that led to the third floor. "You're going to join the Service Club," he finally announced, like it was a doctor's declaration of a magical cure. La Flaga placed his foot to the door to keep it open for Cagalli. Seeing this, she mustered up her last ounce of strength to run up the stairs.

"Service Club?" She repeated with a huff when they walked pass the doors and onto the third floor.

"Yes."

"…And what exactly do I have to do in that club?"

"You provide services," he stated matter-of-factly.

She growled, imagining herself giving an oil massage to a teenage boy. "Sounds perverted."

"Far from it. The club leader will explain everything to you once we get to the room."

"Right…" she said, scanning the third floor with her eyes.

This floor of her high school was definitely odd looking.

No, there weren't any supernatural or satanic symbols etched on lockers, in fact, the only supernatural part was the cleanliness of its hallways. Barely any litter was on the tiles, and the lockers… they looked as good as new. And to add to that, the third floor hardly had any afterschool lurkers (unlike the first and second floor).

"By the way, Cagalli, I tried calling your dad to inform him of your suspension and I was wondering…"

"Yes…?"

"Your dad doesn't work at _Jimmy's Pizza Palace,_ does he?"

La Flaga's face was overly relaxed. Immediately, she could tell he was forcing it.

"Why do you ask?" Her eyes widened and her lips puckered a bit to imitate the face of an innocent schoolgirl.

"Because the number I kept calling belonged to them…Do you know how frustrated the worker was? I kept calling thinking I was just punching in the number wrong!" Mr. La Flaga's eyes started to bulge out their sockets. His voice sounded pathetically upset. "I felt so bad, I ended up buying three large pizzas. And I had to eat every slice by myself! Do you know how unhealthy that is?"

Cagalli put a hand to her mouth, turning away from him as she laughed to herself. "But you get protein and calcium," she said in between her chortles.

"Anyways! I managed to get a hold of Mr. Athha – through email."

A grin was plastered on his mouth.

Her laughter drowned out.

The expression on Cagalli's face soon became stony. She was silent for a moment until she said, "…Fantastic. Now tell me about something I actually care about."

Mr. La Flaga had absolutely no idea how to respond to her remark.

* * *

People usually ignored him, or at least tried to.

There weren't a lot of things that were too distinguishable about him. He had wiry black hair and his bangs were so long they covered up his dark eyes. His body was scrawny too and the slouchy posture made him seem even smaller. These physical traits that were bestowed upon him certainly made him forgettable.

Forgettable was one of his goals in high school.

Only fifteen years old, he had already known that the rest of his teenage days would be filled with shittiness and boredom.

That is why he had wanted to become unnoticeable by everyone in his grade and everyone else in this damn school. Although, he had hoped to fade away quietly in the background, he, to his dismay, carried one distinguishable trait that _everybody_ seemed to notice.

Chronic bitch face.

His face possessed a permanent scowl. Thin naturally crooked lips, combined with a brow bone that protruded a little bit further than normal was the immediate cause of his prominent asshole face.

Because of this, people of his grade thought he was someone to watch out for. You never know, he might end up creating a bomb (with the help of google) and end up blowing up the entire school into smithereens. If he didn't succeed in that, for sure, his maniacal impulses would be saved for the future.

Daunting as it sounded, he did not mind that people thought of him that way. It was better than having his childhood nickname 'ugly skeletor loser' be revived. So, if his classmates were scared of him, it meant that he didn't have to deal with them.

People in his grade were stupid, so many of them grinded his bones the wrong way. They'd make remarks about him that would piss him off, but being the secretive asshole he was, he kept all his shitty feelings inside. Never having lashed out before, he would retreat to a single notebook and write down all his frustrations in there. Not a diary…but a –

"You think this is appropriate, Shinn Asuka?!" Mr. Waltfeld was yelling in his face, holding Shinn's worn out, wired notebook between his index and thumb. He held it as though it were a used tampon.

"No," he answered back, glaring at his dirty sneakers. His jaw was clenched hard. _God, how could you be so stupid? How could you leave your notebook in that fucking desk?_

Mr. Waltfeld scowled at the notebook then at Shinn. "Open your locker," he demanded, "I'm going to do a search for any weapons. Then I'm going to do a bag search. Everything you wrote in this notebook is down right psychotic. You're lucky I'm not reporting you to the cops."

Was Asuka's reputation of becoming a bat shit insane serial killer getting worse?

Hell yeah it was.

If Waltfeld didn't know any better, he could have had Shinn Asuka in the criminal system already.

* * *

Mr. La Flaga stopped in his tracks.

"Well, what do we have here?" he said.

The pair had reached a nearly empty hallway. Keyword: Nearly. Nearly empty, except for the objects flying across the air.

"I told you already, there's nothing in there," said the kid with the baggy black clothes on, his clothes were practically swallowing him.

"Oh yeah? I bet you have something in your backpack." The teacher barbarically threw a rotten apple out the locker.

"I only have textbooks in here and binders…"

"You mean explosives?"

An open pudding cup sailed into the air and landed with a loud splatter on the ground.

"How about daggers? Pistols?"

Then an unopened Oreo box smacked against another locker and landed on the floor, which had junk food scattered all over it.

"Those cookies definitely crumbled," Mr. La Flaga commented, in a futile effort to lighten the up the strange situation they just happened to stumble upon.

"Lame," Cagalli flatly replied, clutching her chest. "You're so lame, it physically hurts."

"Hey, stop throwing my stuff out my locker!"

"Not until it's empty!"

The young kid's entire face was enveloped in a nasty shade of red and his tongue kept furiously licking his lips. He looked like a coke bottle that was fizzing up and ready to explode.

La Flaga turned to Cagalli, frowning slightly. "Stay back, okay? I'm going to ask Mr. Waltfeld what the situation is. I don't want you getting hurt."

She rolled her eyes at his concern. "I'm sure a life time supply of junk food wouldn't hurt me. By the way, I'm following you. I want to know exactly what's happening. Maybe that kid is a secret terrorist, you never know. Gotta get up close and see who else I need to avoid."

He sighed, wondering when he was going to run out of sighs with this one. "Fine then."

As they approached the other pair, a coke can was diving straight into La Flaga's forehead. With reflexes like a god, he caught it then placed it on the floor.

Mr. Waltfeld and the kid slowly turned their heads to Mr. La Flaga and Cagalli.

The kid's half hidden eyes widened, then he looked down at his shoes. He seemed to slouch more. His hands even pulled at the hems of his sleeves.

 _Jeez, what a poor loser,_ she thought.

Mr. Waltfeld appeared to be somewhat relieved at the sight of the other adult. "You need to read this." His tone was urgent. He pointed to the notebook on the floor.

"What is this?" La Flaga asked as he picked it up. Cagalli went on her tippy toes, trying to see over his shoulders.

"Cagalli, step away," he said, moving away from her.

"What? Why?" she purposely whined. "Maybe there are some pretty pictures in it!"

His wide back obstructed her view, but she heard the notebook flap open.

A couple of minutes passed.

Waltfeld was staring at Mr. La Flaga waiting for a reaction.

Cagalli had given up trying to see the contents of that notebook after La Flaga constantly brushed her off.

The skinny kid bit his lips and shoved his hands into his pockets.

All the while, Mr. La Flaga's eyes were still scanning the notebook, slowly but surely, his face drained of all colour. The Adam's apple in his throat rolled as he took a hard gulp. One of his shoulders twitched. "Holy…fu-…I mean frickle-frackle!"

"You could have said 'fuck'," Cagalli commented nonchalantly.

Her words were obviously unheard by anyone.

He slapped his forehead and ran it down his shocked face, stretching out his skin, making himself look like an old man. He shook his head, then fearfully glanced at the kid.

Mr. La Flaga switched his gaze to Mr. Waltfeld, snapping the notebook closed. "Did you check his bag?"

"I was just about to do that."

The kid seemed to be jerked out of his effort to become invisible because he had barked out, "Wait! You can't do that, sir!"

"Then you clearly have something to hide, Shinn." Mr. Waltfeld grabbed the back of his backpack and proceeded to yank it off his shoulders.

"No! Stop! This isn't fair!"

"Whatever _disgusting_ things you wrote in here isn't fair to your peers either," he sternly replied. He yanked harder this time. The backpack roughly slipped from Shinn's arms, making him bang against the locker behind him.

"What's your last name, Shinn?" asked Mr. La Flaga as he was watching Mr. Waltfeld swiftly unzip the countless of pockets in his backpack.

Cagalli's brows rose in confusion.

"Asuka," Shinn reluctantly replied.

Mr. La Flaga made a weird sound in his throat. "I guess I'm your guidance counselor, Shinn. I'll be escorting you to my office right after this."

Shinn's expression was unseen beneath his bangs.

Mr. Waltfeld suddenly announced, "I'm going to dump this bag upside down, if you have any weapons, I will call the cops." While he was shaking the backpack, a crunching sound was heard. It sounded as though there were infinite mechanical items inside.

"Wait! Don't do it in front of _her_." Shinn sharply tilted his chin to Cagalli, boring his eyes into her skull.

She definitely noticed the way he spat out 'her _'_ so grossly. His ugly look was about to pierce open her sense of superiority over him.

Cagalli took a step back, hands rising in fake surrender. "Chill dude. If you have porn mags, I couldn't care less. We live in a digital age where you can fap to your phone so I don't get why you would bring that crap to school. Let alone purchase it."

Shinn paused. He sucked in his breath through his teeth. "God! You're really pissing me off!" His fists clenched. "You don't need to be seeing me get suspended. You're probably going go tell everyone in the school because that's what girls like _you_ do."

 _Girls like me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?!_

Her mouth formed a perfect 'o'.

"Sorry? You don't even know me," she snarled. "Why would I want to spread rumours about a guy who's named after a body part? I don't talk to anyone at this school, so before you make any assumptions you need to shove your notebook up your ass, you dumb fuck!"

That shut Shinn the hell up. But the angry fumes were still radiating from him.

Mr. Waltfeld was now glaring at both Athha and Asuka.

Mr. La Flaga looked rather defeated. It seemed that he always got stuck with having students like these. It had to be a curse. With an exhausted voice he said, "This has got to be the worst timing. Cagalli, please… just head out to the room. I'll be there in thirty minutes or less. It's room 304. It should be in a corner further down the hall when you turn right."

She was about to argue but for once she decided to give La Flaga a break, plus she didn't even want to see Shinn's asshole face or else her eyes might burn from the atrocity of it.

"Fine," she spun her heel and started stomping away. _Ugh, I hope I never bump into that kid ever again. But if I do, I am for sure finding out what was in his bag… and that notebook of his._

* * *

Walking by her lonesome, Cagalli kept glancing at each number plate on every single door she passed.

 _312, 311, 310, 309_

In less than five minutes she would actually be attending a club meeting in high school. She attended quite a few club meetings before when she was in ninth grade (she was dragged along by her former best friend – who was irrelevant to her life now). The classrooms for where the meetings were held would be full of people and there would always be that awkward self-introduction along with their reason for joining the club.

She cringed hard at the thought of herself standing up and stating these things.

 _"Hey guys, the name's Cagalli. I'm in grade 12 and I am here because I basically need community hours. Don't interact with me please. Thanks."_

She could atleast try to sound convincing.

 _"Hello everyone! My name is Cagalli, I'm a twelfth grader. I'm here to join because I want to make a difference in the community and I love helping others!"_

Total bullshit.

Another thought came into her mind. It was currently October… first club meetings are held in September, therefore, right now, she would be walking in on a meeting with members who have already established themselves and then she'd have to be the only one making a self-introduction.

How embarrassing!

 _Stop thinking. Focus on finding that classroom._

Under her breath, she said aloud the numbers of the classrooms she passed. "308, 307, 306…305."

"And 304…" Her steps took a halt in front of the clubroom door.

She frowned in confusion when she saw that the rectangle window of the door was covered with black construction paper. _Odd_ , she thought, but she soon dismissed it.

 _Wait…I've never even heard of this club before._

There were no posters on the bulletin boards or on any of the walls in the hallways, often, club meeting posters stayed on the walls for a considerable amount of time before a random person ripped them down just for the hell of it. Cagalli hadn't even heard any announcements advertising this club either.

What kind of club was this? A secret, exclusive club? No way! Maybe they sucked at advertising themselves, which meant that their member count was most likely to be low, which _also_ meant that Cagalli didn't need to interact with too many people. This sounded like a win-win situation in her mind.

Smiling confidently, she rose her fist and knocked on the door.

No answer.

She knocked again, a bit harder this time.

Still no answer.

"Umm…okay." Cagalli waited for a minute, before she decided to turn the doorknob all the way.

It was unlocked, without a second thought, she instinctively pushed open the door.

As her foot met the inside of the room, her eyes were startled by the appearance of it.

Desks were messily pushed all the way to the back of the classroom, resembling a traffic jam with too many colliding cars. Beside the desks were chairs that were stacked to the ceiling. Some stacks were wobbling to one side precariously, ready to fall. Whether it was a trick of her vision or what not, she could have sworn the desks and chairs were coated in a layer of dust.

Cheap blinds covered all the windows. Except for the one that exposed some light to that darkened space. Like a broken and aged spotlight, the sun beamed half-heartedly onto that one particular person in the room.

That person sat in a chair, away from the mess behind him. He was in the center of it all, his body towards the blackboard. His head hung low, facing the open hardcover book that rested in his hands. Black ear buds were in his ears, so Cagalli could not even comprehend why she even bothered to utter out an "Excuse me."

Unresponsive, and so preoccupied by his book, he did not notice that another person was standing right at the doorway.

Cagalli bit her bottom lip. She closed the door behind her with her heart thumping. Why the hell was there only one person in here? Did she go to the wrong classroom?

She felt anxious. _You have two options: You can stay in this room until this guy notices you or you can leave as fast as you can– but then maybe he'll notice that you were in here once you leave… But – remember! You came here for one reason. Community hours!_

Her legs started moving on their own accord, approaching the male at a gradual pace. As she reached him, her silhouette layered over his sitting form.

She stood there, overlooking him, looking like a reluctant assassin that was about to snap his neck.

As she was about to cough for his attention, the male abruptly glanced straight up at her, locking her in his apathetic gaze.

Those muddy green eyes of his seemed to be looking right through her entire body in complete disinterest, as if he had completely analyzed her soul in less than a second and decided that she was not worthy of interaction.

He took off his thick black frames then lightly tugged his ear buds out, as he did so, the low blare of music was heard.

"Do you have a request?" he asked, his tone of voice somewhat bleak.

"I – I, what…no! Why?"

An awkward, incredible silence followed. The male stared hard at her, his deep-set eyes were unimpressed but at the same time they held a similar bewilderment that Cagalli's eyes had.

The music streaming from the guys ear buds acted as the substitute for their voices. Its sound, despite being so low, had a rhythm to it that she was sure that she had heard somewhere else before.

"So…if you don't have a request, why are you here?" As he said this, the music became louder, the attitude of the bass line evolved into a demanding one. Cagalli was sure she knew this song.

"What band are you listening to?" she sputtered out on such impulse. At that instant, she felt her blood rush all the way to her brain as she mentally chastised herself.

The male took another long stare at her.

…And then he said the most annoying words anyone can ever say when answering a question like this:

"You've probably never heard of them."

Black turtleneck sweater, dark hair in a low ponytail, a long chain necklace with a stone in it, gauges in his earlobes, fitted denim jeans and thick black-rimmed glasses…

She should have known.

This guy was just another pretentious –

"Hipster."

It was unmistakable, like the scowl that currently tainted her lips.

Slowly, his mouth opened, speechless for a second until his unfriendly voice, challengingly asked her, "…Did you just call me a hipster?"

Smugness was one expression she liked to put on her face, but somehow that expression was vandalized by fear. She straightened her posture, puffing out her small chest by a tad. "Why, yes. I did, in fact, call you a hipster."

"…And what makes you think I'm a hipster?"

"The way you're dressed and your answer to my question." Her cheeks were starting to burn again.

"You're quite judgmental, aren't you? You quickly judged me and decided that I was a hipster. With hipsters' reputations, they are usually disliked, so you probably already made the decision to dislike me as well…a good thing to do is limit yourself from judging others."

Cagalli furrowed her brows. She did not like the sound of his voice at all, his tone was way too cool and unfazed, which was much more intimidating than how she ever sounded.

"Well," she replied, attempting to mirror his execution. "It's actually a defense mechanism to analyze a person and make a judgment, to see if they are a threat or not. Our great ancestors have either been killed or been able to survive, depending on their own judgments." She smirked at herself for being able to pull something like that out of her ass.

"But you live in the modern era, and last time I checked – " He glanced around the classroom. "We are not fighting for survival. Therefore your judgments should be rational." He abruptly stood up from his chair, holding onto his belongings. "Also…"

His eyes gazed down at her face. "…Do I look like a threat to you?" he added, his features softening slightly.

Cagalli's eyes darted away quickly as her cheeks began to bruise pink. She dug her nails in her fists. "Umm…uhh…I-I don't know!"

He tilted his head. "It's a simple question. Yes or no?"

"Ugh… jeez. No. No, you are not a threat to me. Happy?"

Shrugging, he sat back down. "At least that settles things." He shut off his music. "But, you never answered my question. If you have no requests, then why exactly are you here?"

She folded her arms, and shifted her weight to one side. Her foot was tapping against the floor, as she tried to mentally get rid of the heat from her face. If she could open a window or something she would be satisfied. "Community hours," she bluntly stated, fixating her glare at a random tile.

"Oh, did Mwu send you here?"

"Who the hell is that?"

"Sorry, I meant Mr. La Flaga."

 _Wow, someone's on a first name basis._

"Yeah, he sent me here. He wants me to join some Service Club or something, but I think La Flaga gave me the wrong room number." Cagalli blew her bangs away from her eyes, more so in irritation than anything else.

"Is that so?"

"Mhmm."

The guy reached down to the leather satchel beside his chair. He pulled out a folded sheet of paper from one of its pockets. "By the way, my name is Athrun. What's yours?"

"Cagalli."

Athrun raised his arm towards her. The folded paper was within that hand. He gave her a small, dull smile. "…Welcome to the Service Club."

Cagalli wanted to jump out of the window behind him.

How could there be only _one_ other member? And out of everyone in this rotten school, how come it had to be _him_?

That folded sheet of paper was now placed in her hands.

Cagalli didn't even want to open it.

* * *

 _The Service Club_

 _Contract_

 _The purpose of the Service Club is to fulfill the community hours of students who have had their hours increased due to delinquent actions._

 _The responsibilities of a Service Club member include reviewing requested tasks and completing the approved tasks given by fellow classmates and teachers._

 _Service Club members have the right to decline or approve of requests._

 _Service Club members are not allowed to negotiate the hours given by task givers._

 _Service Club members cannot negotiate or alter tasks. They must fulfill them to the best of their ability._

 _The Service Club meets regularly once a week. Failure to attend meetings will result in an increase of hours for that club member._

 _Failure to comply with the rules outlined in this contract will result in immediate termination of membership and the hours completed in their duration of the club._

 _I (your name) agree with the above statements and understand the importance of service to the community._

 _Full Name:_

 _Grade:_

 _Hours left to complete:_

 _Date:_

 _Contact Information (Address and phone number):  
_

* * *

 **A/N:** Now you guys got introduced to rest of the main cast and even the contract ;) tell me what you think of them, haha.

(If anyone could guess what was in Shinn's notebook and bag, I will give you virtual Oreo cookies) _  
_

Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
